


A Change of Pace

by quinngrey



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Role Reversal, Spit As Lube, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 15:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14287653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinngrey/pseuds/quinngrey
Summary: In which Mairon attempts to be the one in charge of Melkor.





	A Change of Pace

**Author's Note:**

> From Morgan’s request for Mairon being the dominant one and giving orders.

The throne sat tall in the flame lit chamber, its intricate iron and golden designs marred only by blood spatter. Upon it Mairon sat, his legs crossed as he sharpened his claw like nails with a bone file. It was nice to have the throne, though he did enjoy when he Master occupied it. The great doors creaked open, drawing his attention, and the sight of Melkor was enough to make a playful smirk play upon his lips. It appeared the other got his message, a small scroll with his delicate script requesting his presence post haste. 

“Your emergency is… that you look completely fuckable on my throne?” 

“Not your throne while I am in it, my Lord,” Mairon hummed, setting down the file and running his lithe fingers along the arm rests. “Rather, it appears to be my throne.”

“Yet you refer to me as Lord, do you not?” Melkor grinned, sharp incisors visible under the curl of his lip. His spirits were well enough to play whatever game the Maia insisted on playing. 

Mairon licked his lips in thought, leaning back further into the throne and uncrossing his legs, letting his knees fall to either side. “Very well, Melkor,” he purred the name, let it weigh heavy on his tongue, enjoying the way it sounded. It was apparent that his Master enjoyed it as well. Bringing his hands up to the clasp at his throat, he raised a brow and began to slowly undress himself. “Come forth, my faithfully handsome subject, and remove your pesky clothes while you’re at it.”

“Is that an order, Mai- my _Lord_?” 

The title made Mairon shiver with anticipation, his arousal already stirring within the confines of his leggings. Biting his lip, he nodded, finally getting the last of the clasps on his robes undone, spreading the thick fabric to expose his bare chest. The thin golden rings that adorned his peaked nipples, the toned stomach, the soft trail of auburn hair that trailed from his navel into the confines of his leggings… He lived for the way Melkor’s gaze raked down his body. “It is, indeed, an order.”

The Vala approached slowly, shredding his metal armour first, then maile, then the leather, each piece discarded across the chamber floor. When at last he was immediately before Mairon, wearing only his breeches and boots, did he pause. “Would my Lord have me laid bare for his viewing?”

Swallowing thickly, Mairon felt his face flushing at the thought. He had considered many details, ran over the scene in his head so many times, and yet now that they were here and, oh Valar, Melkor was playing along? It was a struggle to keep in the role he had assumed. He wanted his Master to pull him by the hair and claim his body the way he ought claim his throne. Mairon wanted to be ravished so thoroughly that he was reminded just who the true Master was. 

“Y-yes, your Lord would have that, yes,” he managed, palming the stiffness that bulged uncomfortably in his leggings now. “And then… ah! Then, on your knees.”

Melkor husked his breeches with ease, kicking his boots off before stepping out of the leather around his ankles. He took a step forward, kneeling on one knee before Mairon with an intrigued expression. It was a wonder how far his Maia might push this little game, especially since he already seemed to be faltering in his command. Still, the Vala was inclined to play along a bit longer. 

“That’s one knee,” Mairon tutted, inclining his chin ever so slightly. “I want you on both.”

The Vala chuckled at that, but gave a nod of his head before situating the other knee as well. “Is this how you treat your thralls, little flame? Make them kneel for you,” he paused, leaning forward and running his blackened hands up his Maia’s thighs with purpose. “Make them suck your cock? Beg you to fuck them?”

Inhaling sharply, Mairon had to force himself to swat at his Master’s hands, his heart pounding so loud he was convinced the other could hear it. “Did I give you permission to touch me, Melkor? I think n-not,” he faltered at the end, unable to help himself. He shook his head minutely, trying to get himself together. “Hands behind your back… I want only your mouth.”

Brow raising, Melkor complied willingly enough, playful smirk on his lips. Valar be damned, Mairon knew this was a losing battle, yet so long as the Vala allowed he would not give in. The powerful being before him, knelt so beautifully, his lips twitching into a grin. “You did not deny my accusations, Mairon,” he mused. 

“Silence! Your mouth has far better uses than speech,” Mairon snapped, feeling the rush of heat flushing his skin. He reached out, hesitating only briefly before grasping the Vala’s chin between his fingers. “Open.”

Melkor licked his lips, but did not. “Make me, my _Lord_ ,” he challenged, emphasizing the title. He loved the flick of panic in Mairon’s honeyed eyes, the way the other doubted himself in that moment, unsure of himself and his position. The tension held between them for a stretch before the Maia’s resolve returned. He stood from the throne, his cock solid and protruding as he wrapped his free fingers around the base and pressed the leaking tip against his Master’s lips. The hand on the Vala’s chin shifted to better grab his jaw, fingers pressing hard at the juncture until Melkor’s mouth parted. 

As if playing further with fire, he pressed the head of his cock between those beautiful lips, biting his own lip to keep from moaning at the warm, wet feeling of the other’s waiting mouth. Melkor did not close his eyes, staring straight up at Mairon as he teased his tongue over the slit, enjoying the way the Maia hissed with pleasure. In this, the Vala didn’t mind performing. After all, he enjoyed seeing the other fall apart under his ministrations. 

Mairon took his hand from Melkor’s face, carding it through dark locks of hair instead as the Vala’s tongue swirled sinfully around the crown of his cock. It took everything in his power to not thrust into his Master’s mouth, remembering his place even if he was acting as though he was in charge. They both knew it was a false dominance anyway. Even still, the Vala sucked the head before running his hot in a hot stripe up the length from base to tip, delighting in the breathy moan that resulted. 

“F-fuck,” the Maia mumbled, his head falling forward, crimson braided hair spilling like a curtain over his narrow shoulders. “I need- ahh- need you to take me…” 

With an obscene pop, Melkor let the cock fall from his talented lips, grinning up at the other’s weakened resolve. “What was that, Mairon? You want me to bend you over? To fuck you against my throne? To remind you of your _place_?”

“Yes, my Lord,” he nodded, already shimmying his leggings down past his hips before pushing his robes off his shoulders and letting them fall unceremoniously onto the floor. The Vala grinned, his charred hands finding Mairon’s hips with ease, kneading his sting fingers into the milky, soft flesh.

“Turn and bend over the rest, little flame,” Melkor commanded, not even the smallest hint of submission in the deep velvet of his voice. As he rose to his feet once more, the other immediately complied to the demand and situated himself accordingly. Not having thought to bring oil, the Vala dipped down and pressed his tongue to the puckered hole, amused by the way that Mairon yelped in surprise and pressed back his hips. 

It didn’t take long to reduce the Maia to a shuddering, whimpering mess. Melkor lapped at his entrance, slow and teasing, his blackened fingers pulling apart the cheeks to dip his tongue into the yielding flesh. Back arched, the other cried out, his knuckles white as he grasped the rest for support, knees weak. A strong arm looped around his waist, holding him up as the Vala guiding the tip of his cock toward the twitching entrance before slowly pressing his hips forward. 

Mairon’s jaw fell open, silent as his eyes tightened closed at the burning stretch. Though he hadn’t been adequately prepared, did his best to relax his body, to focus on shifting and adjusting this form to take his Master’s thick girth. It felt like an age had passed when the Vala was finally sheathed to the hilt within him, pausing to allow him a moment to adjust. Even as a shapeshifter, Mairon knew he could make this easier on himself, but the pain was too delectable, too raw, too beautiful. He was seeing stars, lightheaded already, as he rolled back against his Master’s cock. 

“Such a needy little slut,” Melkor crooned, his hands caressing the other’s back, enjoying the sight of puffed, pink stretching taut around his length. He could feel the way his Maia’s body adjusted, still erring on the tight side even though it surely caused him some agony, and he revelled in it. “Taking me so deep into your greedy hole… Go on, then… Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Mairon’s head snapped up, turning enough to catch the Vala in the corner of his vision. His teeth bit into his lip, mulling it a moment before he moved. It took considerable effort to rock his hips, savouring the drag of his Master’s cock before forcing himself to engulf it once more. The angle was just barely grazing his prostate, not nearly enough for his liking even as he moaned. 

Despite the ache in his flesh, he lifted his knee to the throne, subsequently spreading himself wider for the Vala and allowing for the friction he so craved. Each backward thrust had him writhing, filled and on the cusp of overflowing. When Melkor tugged his hair roughly, forcing his head back, he keened, shuddering and clenching around his Master’s arousal. He hadn’t the faintest idea of how much more he could take, yet the Vala at last pressed a hand at the base of his spine and began to rut into him with such vigor that Mairon near collapsed into the rest. 

Melkor drove his cock deep into the Maia, not sparing any of his strength. Each thrust resounded in the slap of skin, the slick sound of flesh loud in the echoing chamber. When his hair was released his head fell forward, the Vala’s bruising grip digging into his hips as he was pulled back to meet each movement, every rough snap of his Master’s hips against his arse. The tight coil of impending release was on him and no sooner did the other command him to come did his neglected cock spill white streaks of release onto the iron throne. 

Thick cock buried in the Maia’s arse moving in short thrusts, Melkor met his own end with a deep groan of satisfaction. His hot seed filled the other, seeping from his stretched and reddened hole a little more each time as Mairon clenched around him, milking him for every last drop. Finally, however, he stilled and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the back of Mairon’s neck, a silent gesture of his affection. 

Breaking apart, Mairon felt absolutely boneless as he sunk back down onto the throne, his hair clinging against damp skin. His Master’s charred fingers brushed a few strands from his eyes, lifting his chin to meet his gaze. 

“You’re finished playing your little game now, I take it?”

“Yes, my Lord,” he managed, quiet as he averted his eyes, face flushing. 

Melkor dipped down and pressed a kiss to his Maia’s lips, then a second one to his forehead. “Perhaps next time you shan’t give in so easily,” he teased, enjoying the way the other’s brow furrowed, eyes darting up in disbelief. “Do not be so surprised, Mairon. Command is very, very sexy on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well... not exactly bottom!Melkor, but Mairon certainly tried. 
> 
> I take requests! Find me also on tumblr @quinngreyy


End file.
